


Untamed Desire

by ObsianCaetus



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-26 05:15:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12549888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsianCaetus/pseuds/ObsianCaetus
Summary: Unrequited desire finally burns out of control when Morrigan finds herself reunited with the woman she manipulated during the Fifth Blight. However, their reunion comes with a strange new mystery centered around an nearly forgotten tale and bloodline





	1. Undying Need

_“This is where we part ways, Fen’lin. You cannot follow me.”_

_“I see. You are set on your path then?” the dalish woman mumbled, a saddened look on her face._

_“Yes. It was good to see you again. Good luck and good-bye… for the final time.” Morrigan replied, turning her back to her._

_Fen’lin surges forward and grabs her arm, spinning the witch around before she can step into the Eluvian. Those lush red lips opened to make a confused protest by the words are swallowed by the Warden’s mouth over her own. Yellow eyes widen in surprise, entire body going rigid against the firm, chaste kiss that is stolen from her. Her heart leaps as the warmth seeps through her like poison before settling upon her heart, amber-flecked green eyes fluttering open as she pulls away, a sad smile tugging at those thin lips._

_“Dareth shiral, Morrigan.”_

* * *

 

Morrigan stared at the eluvian she had brought to Skyhold. Ten years had slipped by since that day; the last night she saw Fen’lin Mahariel, the great Hero of Ferelden. So much time had passed and yet she could still recall the feel of her warm lips, the scent of oiled leather, fresh pine, and mint that was part of the Grey Warden’s very essence. For ten years, that woman had haunted her dreams with her poison. Before, she had never felt or possessed an intimate or lustful desire for the Dalish woman. Then, she had no interest in women or a relationship at all. She only pursued Alistair for her own ends; trapping the Old God soul in her son. She manipulated Fen’lin’s poorly guarded desires for her to reach those means and recently, she started to feel guilty about it.

However, the legendary hero, her friend, was far out of her grasp. The letter the Inquisition had received from her after Leliana had convinced the Inquisitor to send a warning indicated she was well past the known borders of Thedas to the west. Her quest to understand the Blight and save herself had taken her far and it brought the witch a small comfort to know that Corypheus was no danger to Fen’lin. Back then, Morrigan had the chance to apologize for what she had done but she had been too prideful to do so. Now, she would never have that chance. Morrigan wondered if the elven woman’s desire for her had changed into hatred. Perhaps things would be better that way but the thought made her heart hurt.

“Mother, I’ve finished my studies. Can I go play with the other children?” Kieran asks, poking his head into the room.

“Of course Kieran, just try not to tear holes in your pants again, ok?” Morrigan replied warmly, giving her son an affectionately warm smile.

He smiled happily and hurried off. Morrigan thought of leaving Skyhold and returning to a life of wandering with her child once the Breach was sealed and Corypheus dead but this was a safe place for her son to grow. They needed a stable home and Skyhold was a good, solid home. The Inquisitor was more than happy to welcome her stay, especially since Solas disappeared shortly after the final battle. She continued to serve as an advisor to the Inquisition and it had as many perks as serving on the court in Orlais… with less pretension than the Empress kept gathered around her. Morrigan had not considered settling down at first, but the Inquisition was starting to blossom and the knowledge of the Well of Sorrows now locked inside the Inquisitor. She wasn’t going to wander from this new chapter for Thedas. It would be invaluable to witness where this would lead in the coming years.

Kieran returned at sundown to accompany her to the main hall for supper. As usual, she sat the table with the Inquisitor and her ‘inner circle’. Varric was telling stories about Hawke to her son yet again, the boy fascinated with his exaggerated accounts of the Champion’s adventures in the Free Marches. Meals were always filled with merriment and Morrigan, privately, enjoyed it. It reminded her of her journey across Ferelden with Fen’lin and the others. Though some of them she couldn’t stand to be around for longer than a few minutes, they had grown to become friends… even that insufferable bard Leliana. She didn’t participate much at dinner, just simply listened and basked in the companionship around her. However, tonight was fated to be different.

“Have there been any further communications from the Hero of Ferelden?” The Inquisitor asked once Varric finished recounting the duel between Hawke and the Arishok.

“Not yet. I am not entirely sure if our message about Corypheus’s demise has reached her. I imagine she has traveled far to the west and reaching her is next to impossible. Fen’lin is a difficult woman to keep down.” Leliana replied.

“I heard she landed the killing blow upon the Arch Demon!” Kieran said excitedly.

“Ya… you know, neither you or Morrigan actually talk about her much. Surely you two must have stories few have ever heard of her.” Varric quipped, eyeing both Leliana and Morrigan.

“There isn’t much to tell from what’s already common knowledge. Fen’lin was a very straight forward person.” Morrigan retorted with a shrug, picking up her wine goblet once it had been refilled.

“Come on, you two must have stories about her. You were there from the beginning! Lovers, embarrassing mishaps… something that’s not in the epics and songs.” The dwarf insisted with an annoying grin plastered on his face.

Morrigan noticed Leliana’s gaze flit over her, that judgmental glint to them. Leliana’s early attempts to seduce Fen’lin had been spurned, but she didn’t hate the Warden for it. She resent the witch for manipulating her friend’s heart with no regard to the damage it would do. They never saw eye to eye with each other but, in a strange way, they still managed to become friends. Morrigan viewed their attempts at shielding Fen’lin like a child as coddling and greatly disapproved of them always questioning what the elven woman’s decisions.

“Come on, spill!” Iron Bull chimed in, slamming his tankard on the table hard enough to make all the silverware clatter.

“Alright, alright. Fen’lin didn’t have any lovers that I knew of. She was very focused on her duties as a Grey Warden and stopping the Arch Demon. However, she was very much in love with someone though they didn’t return her feelings. Instead, her heart was often manipulated for their selfish gain.” Leliana said with a smug look.

“Oh? Who was the Hero in love with? One of her companions?” Cassandra asked with interest.

“Leliana would be right though there is one small detail she has left out, not that anyone should fault her. Fen’lin, before she became a Grey Warden, was supposed to marry a fellow hunter. He was an orphan, just like her, and they grew up together. Unfortunately, when they found the tainted Eluvian, she was rescued by her clan while Tamlen was never found. Later, he learned he had become a Darkspawn when Shrieks ambushed the camp one night. Fen’lin killed him out of mercy.” Morrigan explained, cocking a brow as she sipped her wine, a faint pink tint crossing Leliana’s cheeks.

“Oh, that’s actually pretty tragic. Would make an excellent short romance story.” Varric said as the atmosphere became somber for a few moments.

“That don’t answer the Seeker’s question, though. Who was she in love with? King, what’s his face?” Sera spoke up, leaning over the table with her chin resting on her hands.

Leliana hesitated on answering as did Morrigan. Giving a response would open a floodgate of questions Morrigan did not wish to deal with. The witch was going to excuse herself when she noticed Leliana’s attention was directed down the other side of the table. Her blue eyes were wide and jaw slightly slack, as if something had caught her off-guard, which was rare for the spy master. The witch shifted in her seat and turned to see what had taken the orlesian’s attention and her own jaw nearly dropped. Someone had walked into the hall, mostly unnoticed by the guards and other patrons enjoying their meals. It was obvious she was elven, with pointed ears and large, green eyes though she stood nearly as tall as a human did. She could hear the others asking questions about what was going on, but their voices fell on deaf ears as the sound of her beating heart thundered in her skull.

“Who is that?” Cassandra asked, noticing the woman approaching the table.

“Fen’lin?!” Leliana blurted out, the cloaked woman pausing and bowing to them with a small but sincere smile on her face.

“So… you going to introduce your friend here, Leliana?” the Inquisitor asked, rising from her seat.

“Since Leliana’s tongue seems to have forgotten how to work… Inquisition, I would like to introduce you to Warden Commander Fen’lin Mahariel, Hero of Ferelden.” Morrigan retorted as the corners of her lips lifted into a smile.

The rest of the night was spent reminiscing and learning about the legendary Hero, who slew dragons and darkspawn. Fen’lin recounted her journey across the western lands beyond Thedas. Morrigan found her demeanor had, disturbingly, changed. Her palms felt clammy and her heart rate had doubled almost instantly. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Fen’lin, stealing looks at her and hoping those amber-flecked green eyes would catch her own. Annoyed with herself, Morrigan excused herself and escorted Kieran back to their room so she could tuck him into bed. However, Morrigan found herself too shaken to find sleep herself. Her mind was racing with feelings she hadn’t felt since the day Kieran was born. Her heart refused to calm its rapid pace since Fen’lin arrived at Skyhold.

“I see you’ve kept yourself quite busy these past few years, Asha’dirth. Not even motherhood can slow your pursuit of the mysteries of Thedas, eh?” Cam the accented lit of the Warden’s soft voice.

Morrigan turned to find Fen’lin standing there, dressed in as simple green silk tunic and leather breeches, feet bare as usual. The witch swallowed nervously, silently cursing her nerves for behaving so erratically. Still, seeing Fen’lin reminded her of that stolen kiss and how it made her feel.

“Woman of secrets? That title seems more suited for Leliana, seeing that is her specialty and trade.” Morrigan quipped, crossing her arms over her chest.

“True but you also have many secrets of your own, Morrigan. It is nice to see you. Your son has grown into quite a handsome shem.” She mused, moving her attention to a stack of tomes.

“He is a good boy. I am surprised you came to Skyhold. I take it that means your journey met with some measure of success?” the witch asked, trying to steer the conversation away from personal information.

“Surprisingly, yes. It took much longer than I expected it to, but I have learned much in my journey. Unfortunately, I was unable to replicate what may have happened to Enchanter Fiona but the Calling is no longer a threat to me and soon, to the Grey Wardens as a whole.” Fen’lin told her with a confident smile.

“Good. I believe such an advantage will be needed in the coming future.”

An awkward silence fell between them, Fen’lin’s gaze drawn to the massive Eluvian behind the witch. She couldn’t help but think about the one they found that set her on this path and claimed Tamlen from her. It still hurt, but time had dulled that mark on her heart. The dalish woman walked past Morrigan to get a closer look, long fingers tracing across the clouded glass. After a few quiet moments, she turned to see Morrigan again.

“I heard Merril had recovered the shards of the Eluvian that Tamlen and I discovered in the Bercillian Forest. Was… she ever successful in its repair?” Fen’lin asked with curiosity.

“At a cost, yes. I recovered it from Kirkwall before the Seekers of Truth could confiscate it after Hawke and her companions fled the city. I placed it back in its rightful place.” Morrigan told her.

“Does it work?”

“Would you like to see, Fen’lin?” The witch asked with a cocky smile, butterflies in her gut.

“Asha’dirth revealing one of her treasured secrets? That’s quite unlike you.” The dalish woman teased.

Morrigan scowled at her for a brief moment before directing her attention to the Eluvian, giving the password to activate it. The glass glowed in an instant, bathing them in a cool light. Morrigan smirked before stepping through the Eluvian. Fen’lin followed right behind her. It was quiet and peaceful here, a calmer air now settled in this strange place with Corypheus dead. Part of Morrigan was still irritated that she had been robbed of the Well of Sorrows’s knowledge. In hindsight, however, it was probably a wiser decision on the Inquisitor’s part that she did not partake of the waters. Fen’lin asked no questions or spoke, just quietly took it all in as Morrigan guided her to the Eluvian in the Bercillian Forest. She gave the password again and the doorway opened.

They stepped through and found themselves back in the dusty ruin Tamlen and Fen’lin found over a decade ago. It was eerie to be back to where it all began for her. This is where she became a Grey Warden. The dalish woman had never foreseen herself raising an army and saving an entire nation. The memories were old and bitter and she wanted to be out of this dark place. Morrigan summoned a small ball of light to illuminate their path as they exited the cave. The familiar air of the forest was much more welcoming for them both. A fresh breeze wove around the trees, the light of the moon filtering through the ceiling of the canopy above them. Ever since they stopped the Blight and broke the werewolf curse, the forest had lost its ominous air.

“It’s been some time since you returned home, no?” Morrigan asked though it wasn’t really a question when she could see the answer in the woman’s body language.

“Seems like a lifetime since I was last here. It’s not quite the same anymore but then, everything changed after the Blight.” Fen’lin mused softly as they walked further from the cave, following the abandoned game trail.

A small breeze raced through the trees, rustling the brush and leaves around them. Morrigan hadn’t realized how warm she felt until the cold rush of air made a chill race down her back. She looked at Fen’lin, noticing the dalish woman had stopped moving and had her head cocked to one side as if listening. She had no idea why she was feeling this way, but the fact that they were alone, together, and far from prying eyes made her mouth feel unusually dry. Morrigan tried to listen for whatever sound caught the Warden’s attention, but she failed to hear it.

“Do you hear something, Fen’lin?” The witch asked with an annoyed sigh.

“She is happy we came to visit after so long.” Fen’lin reported, her eyes closed.

“She?”

“The Lady of the Forest. She is pleased we’ve visited and glad we are well.” Came the elven woman’s response, a smile to her voice.

Morrigan gave her a suspicious look, which she only laughed out. The sound, a deep undertone to her accent voice was making a heat start to pool in her loins… not that she’d ever admit that. She was having a hard time dealing with the idea that a woman, THIS woman of all people, could illicit such arousal out of her without even trying. Perhaps this was payback for not returning Fen’lin’s affections. So lost in thought Morrigan hadn’t realized Fen’lin was staring at her.

“What?” She snapped testily.

“You seemed lost in thought. Does something bother you?” Fen’lin asked with a hint of worry in her voice.

“Nothing, just old memories. Much has changed us both this past decade.” She retorted, feeling her cheeks starting to flush.

“I see. Your son, Kieran, has much of your looks in him. Motherhood seems to have agreed with you quite well, Asha’dirth” the dalish woman said, a gentle cadence to her voice now.

“He is a good boy and will grow into a fine young man in the future.” The witch replied, glad for the change of subject.

“Has Alistair ever met his son? Does Kieran know whose blood sired him?” Fen’lin asked.

“No, and I prefer to keep it that way. I have no aspirations for my son to be king.” Morrigan retorted.

“Hmm.” The elf mused, wandering over towards a tree.

Morrigan glared at her back as Fen’lin fell silent, attention focused on a small branch. Did Fen’lin doubt her intentions? Was she wrong too, after everything she put that woman through? Perhaps the fondness in Fen’lin’s heart had finally turned cold and bitter in these long ten years. The thought of that possibility angered and saddened Morrigan for some reason. The idea of the Warden no longer lustily pinning after her was… disheartening. The fact that she was feeling this way annoyed her. Why have her feelings for Fen’lin changed now? She couldn’t possibly be falling in love with the Grey Warden, could she? No, this was merely a brief phase onset by seeing an old friend. Nothing more and nothing less.

“Morrigan, I… wish to apologize for what I did all those years ago,” Fen’lin said suddenly, her back still to her.

“Apologize? For what?” Morrigan asked curiously, unable to think of what the woman would have done to hurt or insult her.

“Forcing myself upon you. It was highly inappropriate of me to do so.” She explained.

“You are referring to when you kissed me in front of the Eluvian I assume.”

“Yes. My feelings for you… I understood that you would never feel the same for me and I’ve always respected that. I acted selfishly and impulsively when I saw you.” Fen’lin continued with her apology, finally turning to look her in the face when she finished.

The soft, regretful look in her amber-flecked gaze, the slight frown on her lips, the way the shadows made her look so… exhausted was endearing. However, something about Fen’lin apologizing for her feelings, for how her heart felt all those years ago infuriated the witch. Her eyes narrowed into an annoyed scowl.

“Why the hell are you apologizing? Insufferable woman. I used you, manipulated and abused your feelings to get what I wanted from the day my mother brought you near dead to our home to the moment I asked you to convince Alistair to bed me! You never questioned my motives and you even defended me to your friends when they warned you… and yet you’re the one apologizing to me?” The witch retorted incredulously.

“I did what my heart commanded me to and I have no regrets about the decisions I made. I did not delude myself into thinking I could win your affections nor was I going to deny my heart desires you. I was well within my capabilities to tell you no when you asked things of me, but I chose not to.” Fen’lin explained to her, a brow arched in curiosity.

“You are impossible, elf,” Morrigan grumbled.

“I suppose I am. You seem irritated that I made such an apology. Why is that?” Fen’lin asked her, curious.

“I… it’s been a long day. We should return to Skyhold and sleep. It’s grown late.” Morrigan retorted, avoiding the question nervously.

Fen’lin merely nodded her head in agreement and started to head back towards the cave. Morrigan stood there, hands shaking slightly at her side and lips drawn tight. Her heart was racing against her ribs as she caught the Warden’s familiar musk; the heavy scent of oiled leather and pine… accented with the delicate note of mint. When she inhaled, it made a pleasant shiver race through her nerves and pool more heat in the embers rolling around in her groin. The pressure had been building since they left Skyhold, pushing against the mask she wore since she was a young child, cracks splintering its once strong surface until it shattered into a thousand pieces. Her emotions surged through her, unrestrained, and the intensity of what she felt, the desire and want for the Warden’s warmth… she feared she was going to drown in it. Her feet carried her forward before she could even think of something to say, grabbing Fen’lin’s arm to stop her mid-stride.

“Morrigan? Are you well?” The dalish woman asks with concern when she sees the flush on her face in the pale moonlight.

“You… what have you done to me, elf?” She growled, her grip tightening, nails digging into the fabric of her tunic.

“N-nothing! Did I say something to upset you?” Fen’lin replied in confusion, her eyes widening.

When Fen’lin searched Morrigan’s face, she was surprised to see the dark embers of desire in her gaze. The way she was flushed, her breathing heavy enough to make her chest noticeably heave up and down, the tightened grip on her arm… no, she had to be seeing things. She knew Morrigan did not desire women, the shadows were playing tricks on her. Perhaps the witch really was upset about that kiss, though ten years was a long time to hold a grudge over something so mundane. She swallowed nervously, unsure of what to say now as Morrigan stared her down.

“You would have claimed me if I let you back then, no?” Morrigan asked though it was more of a husky demand the way her voice was strained.

“Morrigan, I…”

“That night, when you kissed me, it did something to me. Festered feelings that are just now becoming unbearable. I couldn’t stop thinking of you, worrying that I would never hear from you again. I do not understand why I suddenly feel this way about you.” The witch hissed through clenched teeth, leaning into Fen’lin’s personal space.

“I swear, I have done nothing to you Morrigan. Perhaps you are unwell…” Fen’lin protested.

“Do you still want me?”

“What?”

“Answer me!” Morrigan demanded, nails digging in so hard the dalish woman could feel them digging into her skin through the tunic.

“I… Isalan hima sa i’na,” Fen’lin mumbled, her gaze lowering as she couldn’t look Morrigan in the eye any longer.

“What? What did you say?” The witch asked, relaxing her grip.

“It means ‘I want to make love to you’ Morrigan. That desire has never weakened, only strengthened. I often thought of you during my journey and, at times, the chance to at least see you again kept me going. Creators, I thought I could escape it but…” Fen’lin started to explain, distress in her voice, but Morrigan wouldn’t let her finish.

The elven woman’s remaining words were swallowed by the witch’s mouth pressed against her, the scent of herbs and lyrium assailing her with each breath she took. Wet warmth pressed against her mouth as she froze, completely taken off-guard by Morrigan’s boldness. When they parted, Fen’lin didn’t realize she had forgotten how to breathe and inhaled a ragged breath, Morrigan watching her.

“Claim me then if you still desire me.” Morrigan growled her voice husky and dripping with desire.

Fen’lin was half convinced she must have had too much wine at the Inquisitor’s table and was having an all too real dream of Morrigan. Yet, her scent was so thick and distinct, the pain in her arm as the witch’s nail dug into her so very real… Fen’lin’s self-control snapped in half and she immediately cupped Morrigan’s face between her hands before kissing her again. They only parted for a moment, Morrigan’s heart leaping when she saw the amber in her eyes had nearly consumed all the green in the elf’s irises.

“Ma nuenin, ma vhenan’ara.” Fen’lin purred, one hand sliding around her neck to undo her hair while the other traveled down the curve of her side to grab her hip.

Morrigan gasped as she felt her hair tumble loose, those nimble fingers tangling in the dark tresses and curls of her mane. The dalish’s hot mouth was pressed to her throat, tongue teasing her flickering pulse while she pulled the witch against her. She wrapped her arms around her, nails digging into her back through her silken tunic, seeking her warmth as the heat in her loins intensified, small clothes already damp. Without warning, Fen’lin suddenly pushed her backward, using her lithe but her muscular body to force the witch to stumble until her back scraped against the rough bark of a tree trunk.

“Years I’ve wanted this… dreamed of having you, lusting to give you the attention no other could. Will I be the first woman you’ve ever spread your legs for?” Fen’lin purred in her ear, running the tip of her tongue along the edge and sending warm shivers through every nerve in the witch’s body.

“I do not merely spread my legs.” Morrigan retorted snidely, chest heaving as she found it hard to take anything more than a shallow breath.

“Only when they suit your needs, yes? And tell me… what do you gain from this?” the dalish woman demanded.

“What?”

When she looked up to meet the woman’s gaze, she saw pure and raw vulnerability. Fen’lin had never tried to hide her attraction to Morrigan, but she also had never left herself completely vulnerable before. Always in control, always measuring the risk with the reward but this was different. She had abandoned such precautions and her very heart lay naked to her. Morrigan swallowed nervously, realizing that Fen’lin had only stopped and asked because she was scared; afraid of being brought so close to only have her heart broken utterly. Her heart ached, knowing that she was the sole reason Fen’lin was giving her that look, that they were at this moment here and now. The Warden, after so long, was indeed giving her heart.

“Garas, aman na’mis.” Morrigan responded with a shy and awkward smile, unsure if she got the phrase right.

Fen’lin’s eyes widened at hearing her native tongue spill for those beautiful lips. An electric spark raced through her blood. Her grip relaxed so she could move her hands to the witch’s clothes. She quickly loosened the buckle that held the skirt of cloth and leather to Morrigan’s generous hips, letting it fall around her ankles with a heavy thud in the grassy dirt. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the elven woman’s fingers working the ties that kept what she called a shirt from just sliding around. Fen’lin lifted the fabric off her, exposing her upper body to the cold night air. The bra was of no consequence and quickly discard with her shirt, leaving her open to the Warden’s gaze and touch. Morrigan swore she could feel the weight of her eyes on her, her hands braced against the tree behind her.

“Creators, you are beautiful Morrigan. I missed your scent the most.” Fen’lin mumbled against her neck, hands running along her bare sides.

“That is what you missed most? How boorish.” Morrigan teased, running her fingers through her hair as she untangles the elf’s braid.

“I am not boorish.”

Morrigan inhales sharply as those nimble, dexterous hands gently cupped her breasts, exploring the soft yield of her pale skin, lips trailing kisses down to her collarbone. Each touch made her ache for more and the desire pooling in her loins was too much to ignore. The witch was reasonably sure she had soaked through her leggings by now. She clenched her jaw to fight back the moans, but they managed to escape her as small, pathetic whimpers. Her legs felt weak and her mind dizzy as all rational thought was rapidly consumed by lust and need. Despite the war within herself, Morrigan refused to give in so easily to her. Her hands immediately went to the tie of her tunic and loosened it, pushing the silky fabric up and forcing Fen’lin to stop and step back so she could lift the cloth over her head. The tunic joined the pile with the rest of their discarded clothes. The brief break in contact gave Morrigan a few heartbeats of clarity as the situation sank in.

She had seen Fen’lin bare only once before when tending to her wounds after Ostagar. Unlike the rest of the Dalish, whose Vallaslin only marked their faces, her light red markings ran across her entire body. It was exceedingly rare for an elf to have such tattoos outside the Imperium, but Fen’lin always wore them with pride. They were like roots of a tree, spanning from the light design on her face, running down her throat, and then branching across her collar one to her arms, back, and torso. Scars broke some of the branches, some fresher than others. Not even the arrow wounds from Ostagar had faded completely.

“Are you sure about this? I understand if my body does not appeal to you…” Fen’lin commented as she noticed Morrigan’s gaze linger.

Before now, she never found the female form all that appealing or arousing but Fen’lin was different. Lithe, thin frame with a slight dip in her waist before flaring into slender, firm hips. Her breasts were smaller than her own but held weight. The sight of her, accented by the moonlight and contrasting shadows had a dizzying effect. Perhaps it was because they were far from Skyhold or any sort of civilization and in territory that was familiar and welcome to them. Something primal thundered in her blood as her lips curved into a sultry smile. Morrigan pushed herself away from the tree, draping one arm over Fen’lin’s shoulder as the other slowly traced a branch of the Vallaslin that curved along her breast.

“I only do this for you, Fen’lin… and only you. If you tell anyone, I will turn you into a toad.” She replied brow cocked in that well-known smug expression.

“You are mine and I will not share you with anyone.” Fen’lin retorted possessively, pulling her forward for another kiss.

Working more fervently, they struggled to get each other out of their pants, though Morrigan had the problem of still having her boots on. With a growl of frustration, Fen’lin carefully pushed Morrigan backward, immediately kneeling to catch her with one hand braced against her back while the other hooked behind her knees to hold her before. Morrigan found herself being, gently, laid upon the ground. Fen’lin unlaced the witch’s boots and yanked them off along with her leggings and smalls, leaving Morrigan completely exposed. She flushed when she felt those amber infused eyes staring at her sex before moving on top of her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Morrigan complained, her hips squirm with anticipation, feeling her arousal slicking her thighs.

“Have any of your lovers made you this wet, emma lath?” Fen’lin asked with a smirk.

She ran a finger over those slick folds, delighted by just how wet the witch was and how the touch had made her hips quiver and pulled a moan from her. Morrigan’s face was flush, glaring at Fen’lin for putting her in this embarrassing situation, even though they were the only two souls out here. Her heart raced when, after taking a moment to inspect the glistening moisture on her finger, Fen’lin ran her tongue over the digit. The elf’s smirk grew when she caught Morrigan watching, her jaw hanging slightly open.

“Mar rodhe ir’on. I would have more of you.” She purred as she leaned down, her hand sliding over Morrigan’s stomach as it traveled low.

It was a pleasant stretch as Fen’lin sank her fingers into that wet, velvet heat. Her ministrations started slowly; exploring and teasing to see which touches Morrigan appreciated more. Morrigan’s fingers dug into the grass and dirt, hips lifting and squirming as she ground into the elf’s hand, seeking the friction she so desperately needs. The coil of heat in her groin grew tighter and hotter as Fen’lin kept her balanced on the edge. The stay of pleasure was agonizing and she couldn’t endure it for more than a few minutes.

“Fen’lin please!” She begged in a half moan, half sob, tears caught in her lashes.

The response she got was unexpected but greatly appreciated as the elf pressed down on her, teeth finding purchase on her shoulder… teeth sharpened by her brief time as a werewolf all those years ago pierced flesh and drew blood, ensuring that she was marked as those nimble fingers brought her to completion. The orgasm seemed to last forever, Morrigan’s moans and cries only heard by the soft breeze of the forest. Her vision blurred as tears stung her eyes, staring up at the canopy as she rode the line between pleasure and pain.

Once she started to calm, Fen’lin’s fingers slowed their pace to languid strokes until Morrigan lay there, panting and covered in a sheen of sweat. Blood beaded from the mark on her neck, but it was of no immediate concern. She kissed her way down Morrigan’s quaking form, though once she passed her navel, Morrigan was aware of where she was headed.

“Fen’lin, wait…” She muttered, lifting her head but her protest was too late.

The dalish woman’s tongue ran over sensitive flesh gently, lapping up her nectar until she had her fill. Fen’lin crawled back up and laid down next to Morrigan, an arm draped over the witch to hold her close.

“Was… that good?” the elf asked, nervousness in her voice and shoulders.

“That was more than I could have imagined.” Morrigan sighed happily.

“So, was this a one-time offer or…” She asked hopefully.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me clearly enough? I thought being a werewolf had given you better hearing, Fen’lin. I meant what I said. I do love you.” Morrigan replied, moving to whisper it in her ear, knowing that the feel of her warm breath against them would drive Fen’lin nuts.

“Hngh, point taken. Isn’t there some shem saying about absence makes the heart grow fonder or something?” she laughed.

“Something like that. Now, you are talking far too much for my liking. Put that tongue back to its proper use, elf.” Morrigan ordered as she sat up, legs already spread.

“Ma nuvenin, Morrigan,” Fen’lin replied eagerly.

* * *

 

They all sat together the next evening, enjoying the merriment and the meal as usual. Fen’lin was regaling the tale of fighting the High Dragon when they went to find the Sacred Ashes. Keiran was enraptured and Varric was furiously scribbling notes down as the Dalish Warden spoke. Morrigan smirked over her goblet of wine, then caught Leliana’s gaze lingering on her.

“What?” She asked, arching a brow.

“What happened to your neck? You look like something bit you.” Leliana asked.

Morrigan hadn’t bothered covering up Fen’lin’s mark. The woman had done exactly what she always wanted; claimed the witch for her own. There were no regrets as she smirked at Leliana, draining her goblet before getting up.

“One’s patience is, sometimes, rewarded.” She mused as she walked away from the table.

Leliana watched with confused curiosity as the witch walked around the table, running a hand over the edge of the Warden’s chair, pausing in for a moment to lean in and whisper something in her ear. A moment of clarity came to her when she caught Morrigan trailing her lips along the tip of Fen’lin’s ear before leaving the hall. The elf hung around for a few moments before excusing herself and leaving the room as well. No one else seemed to catch on to the exchange.

“Well, I’ll be damned…” Leliana mused, smirking.


	2. Not on the War Table!

“The Inquisition is well supplied. Didn’t have anything near as fancy when we were throwing everything at the Archdemon and Darkspawn ten years ago.” Fen’lin noted as she ran her fingers along the polished surface of the wooden war table.

“Jealous are we?” Morrigan teased as she watched the elf pick up one of the inquisition pieces.

“A bit, but I think we did fairly well with what we had. I take it you were instrumental in much of the scheming that went on in here?”

“To some degree. I put what I learned to good use and it paid off. The Inquisition stopped Corypheus and restored peace between Ferelden and Orlais. All for the greater good.” The witch smirked, moving a piece.

It was late and the room was empty. It was never in operation during the evenings now that there wasn’t a war going on. At times, the Inquisitor would gather advisors and discuss current matters but not much war-making went on. The Inquisition had withdrawn a great deal of its troops aside from the keeps it had established in Orlais and Ferelden. Things were returning to normal now but it was only a matter of time before Ferelden and Orlais were back at each other’s throats. Morrigan noticed Fen’lin looked pensive, looking over the map before her.

“Does something bother you, Fen’lin?” She asked.

“How long do you think this peace will last? Eventually, Ferelden and Orlais will go back to antagonizing each other… or ally with each other and turn on the Inquisition. A power with no allegiance is often viewed as a threat.” The dalish woman said thoughtfully, walking around the table to approach her.

“As long as it needs to. Do you plan on returning to the fold of the Grey Wardens?” Morrigan asked, her smirk widening as she felt those nimble fingers trace up her bare arm.

“Perhaps. I’ve been getting missives from Amaranthine since I’m technically still the Arl there. Seems the Grey Wardens there have followed suit in splintering away from the First Warden and his loyal inner circle. They are independent, like the Inquisition but have taken a more active role in protecting the citizens.” Fen’lin replied after giving it some thought.

“Returning there would take you away from Skyhold. I think the Inquisitor wants you to be an advisor.” The witch cooed, leaning back into Fen’lin’s solid body.

“Oh really? Are you certain it’s not because you enjoy having me around, ma vhenan’ara?” She whispered in Morrigan’s ear, arms circling around her waist.

“Now why would I enjoy having you around, elf?” Morrigan sneered playfully.

The laugh against her throat made shivers race down her back. She felt one of the elf’s hands slip under the waistband of her leggings, fingers curling and teasing her with gentle, languid strokes. Morrigan hummed with approval, the Warden’s lips against her throat with playful, gentle nips. She had only been here a week but Maker was she insatiable but then, so was she. Morrigan never thought another woman would give her such pleasure, but Fen’lin always made sure the witch was more than satisfied.

“Let us return to your room and I’ll remind you why you enjoy having me around so much, witch.” Fen’lin cooed, tongue running along her ear.

Fen’lin smirked and pulled away, taking Morrigan’s hand and starting to walk, but the witch stood her ground. The dalish woman gave her a confused look as she let go and leaned against the table, a smirk plastered on those lush lips. She looked down at one of the pieces and flicked it over, looking back at Fen’lin with a hooded expression. The elf broke out in a grin, recognizing the desire in her lover’s yellow eyes.

“Why return to the room when we have a perfectly good, polished table no one is using right now?” Morrigan suggested, unbuckling her skirt.

“Really now? On the Inquisition’s fancy war table? Are we at war, my love, or is this a negotiation?” Fen’lin grinned as she approached her, hand running up her leg.

“A surrender actually. Your surrender.” The witch purred, crooking her finger at her in a ‘come hither’ motion.

“Me? Surrendering? Hmm, an interesting proposition but what do I get out of surrendering to you, Witch of the Wilds?” Fen’lin asked, leaning in with her hands braced on the table.

“You know exactly what you get. Now put that clever tongue where it belongs before I make you.”

There was no further discussion on the matter; Fen’lin was more than happy to comply. She fell to one knee and unlaced and removed her boots, slowly. The table was just at the right high to put her on eye-level with Morrigan’s waist, fingers slipping under the hem of her leggings and pulling them off. Morrigan felt her heart flutter as she felt a gentle kiss pressed to her inner ankle and a trail traveling up to her knee. She hadn’t bothered to wear her smalls, planning this for a few days now. Course, she could have just asked Fen’lin if she wanted to fool around in the war room, but this was more fun. Fen’lin was good at playing the roles she wanted of her, always giving more than was asked of her. It made Morrigan feel special in a way no one else could.

She ran her fingers through the elf’s dark auburn hair, glad she chose to wear it loose tonight. It gave her much more control over her Warden. A gentle nip to her inner thigh as Fen’lin leaned closer, warm breath washing over her sex. Morrigan licked her lips in anticipation, nails scraping against her lover’s scalp.

“Are you sure you don’t want to negotiate?” Fen’lin teased.

“It’s a little late for negotiations. Now stop stalling!” Morrigan growled, pushing the woman’s head forward as she laughed.

Pleasant shudders raced through her hips and up her spine as Fen’lin’s tongue teased and prodded, knowing exactly what spots to lick, where to suck and penetrate. Her grip tightened in the elf’s hair as she moaned and panted. Nimble fingers massaged her hips and thighs in tandem, tongue pushing inside her, nose rubbing against her swollen bud. Her ministrations became more urgent as Morrigan’s breathing became faster, rocking her hips forward as the heated coil in her belly tightened. She felt herself near that edge, barely registering that one of Fen’lin’s hands had moved, thumb pressed against her clit to give her that extra friction she craved.

Fen’lin had learned to hold her breath when Morrigan found her release, face pressed tight into the heady warmth of the woman’s sex, drinking up the flood coating her tongue. Pleased, Morrigan loosened her grip on Fen’lin’s hair so the elf could catch her breath once the aftershocks had calmed. She, carefully, fell back on the table, knocking several pieces over. Her eyes were closed, a pleased sigh escaping her. That’s when she heard the door open and someone walk in.

“I sent a messenger to find… Maker, what are you two doing in here?!” Cassandra blurted as she entered the war room first.

Morrigan’s eyes snapped open, looking at Cassandra upside down, completely splayed out on the war table with her leggings missing and Fen’lin standing up, wiping her mouth clean. She stood there, staring at them both in stunned silence, mouth hanging open in shock.

“Well, this is unexpected.” Morrigan sighed, pressing the heel of her palm to her forehead.

“Cassandra, stop blocking the… oh, my.” Cullen demanded, shoving past her only to find the scene as well, the Inquisitor and Josephine following a step behind.

“Morrigan and I were in the middle of a… what did you call it dear, surrender?” Fen’lin laughed, helping Morrigan sit up and tossing her leggings onto her lap.

“Shut up,” Morrigan growled, smacking her on the chest before hopping off the table and pulling her leggings back on.

“You two were seriously doing it on the war table? Damn, why didn’t I think of that?” The Inquisitor laughed, Josephine rolling her eyes as Cassandra turned and was making disgusted noises.

“I wasn’t aware there was a meeting tonight,” Morrigan said a bit crossly.

“It’s nothing major, but there’s been new reports of Red Templars and we were, ah, going to review our troop placements but it seems you two already re-arranged them for us.” The Inquisitor replied, walking into the room with a stupid grin on their face.

“Glad I could help Inquisitor. Might want to put some reinforcements back at that keep over there though. Morrigan moved them a bit too far to the east.” Fen’lin retorted with an equally stupid grin on her face, ducking to avoid the piece Morrigan chucked at her head. “We’ll finish our negotations later my love. Pardon me.”

Once the Warden was gone, an awkward silence fell over the room. Cassandra’s face was bright red, Cullen and Josephine looked uncomfortable, and the Inquisitor was trying not to laugh as Morrigan stood there with her arms crossed, not bothering to put her boots back on. Leliana arrived a few moments later and noticed the tense air in the room.

“What’s the matter?” She asked.

“Are we seriously going to pretend that didn’t happen?” Cassandra demanded in exasperation.

The Inquisitor lost it and doubled over in laughter, Morrigan rolling her eyes. Leliana looked at everyone in turn for an explaination, but no one seemed willing to give one. Once the Inquisitor calmed, Morrigan put her hands on her hips and cleared her throat.

“I was having a very private moment with Fen’lin when the Inquisitor decided to call a meeting. Cassandra had the misfortune of walking in first and caught us as we were finishing up.” Morrigan explained with an annoyed look on her face.

“You and Fen’lin… on the war table? How bold, even for you Morrigan.” Leliana replied with a grin though there was a note of disappointment in her voice.

“Yes, bold indeed. Can we please get on with this pointless meeting now?” the witch sighed.

“I’m never going to look at this table without thinking of… that, for a long time.” Cassandra said with a disgruntled snort.

“You’ll get over it. Now, Leliana, your reports?” The Inquisitor interjected, deciding to get the meeting rolling.

The meeting took much longer than Morrigan expected and it was late into the evening by the time they left. Cassandra still had that disgusted look on her face, but the rest of the group seemed over the matter. So what if they caught them? It’s not like their relationship was much of a secret. She could feel Leliana’s eyes on her back as she walked down the hall. It was just the two of them and she suspected the former bard wanted to speak with her.

“I imagine you have some snide quip about my behavior earlier?” She snorted, turning to face her.

“Why would I make fun of you for what you share with Fen’lin? She seems to be making you very happy.” Leliana replied, a small smile on her lips.

“She does. I suppose it took ten years for me to realize I could love her.” Morrigan sighed thoughtfully, looking out at the starry night sky.

“Well, it’s not like you two have, exactly, been discreet though I’m certain this is the first time anyone’s caught you two in the act. Shame I was a moment too late.” Leliana teased.

“Have you been trying to catch us, spymaster?”

“Perhaps.” Came her sly reply.

“There are many places where your spies don’t often patrol. No one would have been the wiser about us being in the war room. Shame, I thought that would be such a lovely spot for us. Oh well, we’ll just have to find somewhere else.” Morrigan retorted with a sly smile of her own.

“Try not to scandalize the inquisition too much, Morrigan.”

“I make no promises, Leliana.”


	3. Enasal

Morrigan came back from a meeting with the Inquisitor and found her home, strangely, empty. Kieran was not at his desk, the book she had him studying sitting open with a parchment full of notes. She scowled and called for him again but when he didn’t answer, Morrigan suspected her son had snuck off to go play out in the garden. Sighing and muttering to herself, she left her home and went to search for her son in Skyhold’s garden.

Unfortunately, Kieran was not here and that worried her. She hung around the garden for a bit longer before approaching one of the children she recognized as a frequent playmate of his. Morrigan knelt to one knee so she was eye level with him and not being so intimidating.

“Have you seen Kieran today?” She asked.

“I saw him with the tall elf headed to the stables a while ago.” The boy told her, bouncing in place as he was eager to get back to playing.

“Thank you.”

She scowled, suspecting Fen’lin was who drew her son away from his studies. She didn’t mind that the two of them were interacting more but Kieran was developing a fondness for the Warden. Fen’lin would often tell him stories of their adventures and re-enact famous scenes with him. Morrigan headed for the stables and immediately saw the pair with one of the Inquisition’s harts, Kieran sitting on its back. Panic gripped her as she quickened her pace, coming within earshot of their conversation.

“You always have to respect animals. They have thoughts and feelings just like us and they respond better if you treat them like family, not a servant.” Fen’lin lectured, hand on the hart’s neck.

“Mother!” Kieran exclaimed in alarm when he saw Morrigan coming towards them.

“Kieran, what are you doing up there instead of doing your studies?” the witch asked, arms folded over her chest and standing in that mothering posture when one’s child was in trouble.

“It was my idea, Asha’dirth. Kieran was reading about the Chevaliers and I thought the boy might like to know how to ride. It would be a skill that would come in handy.” Fen’lin said, giving the hart a firm pat on the shoulder.

“He is too young.” Morrigan protested.

“Morrigan, relax. I won’t let him get hurt, okay? We’re just going to ride around the yard.” Fen’lin assured her, having Kieran scoot over before swinging herself up onto the hart’s back behind him.

Morrigan watched nervously as she put the reins in the boy’s hand, instructing him on how to hold them and what to do to control the hart’s direction. When ready, Kieran swallowed nervously and gave the beast a firm nudge with his heels. The hart moved in a canter, Morrigan watching as her son broke out in a grin as he grew more confident. They had done three laps before the hart came to a stop. Fen’lin smiled as she got down before helping him off the beast. Kieran stood before Morrigan nervously, hands clasped before him. The witch sighed and patted him on the head.

“I suppose I can’t be mad at you. Did you have fun?” She asked, drawing her son into a hug.

“Yes! Fen’lin is a good teacher.” He replied excitedly. “Can… can I ride again, mother?”

“Another time. Now, go back to our room and finish your lessons and then we’ll have lunch. I must speak with Fen’lin.”

Kieran nodded, waving good-bye to the elf before hurrying back to their home. Fen’lin smiled gently, taking the hart’s reins and walking it back into the stable. Morrigan followed after her, watching the woman carefully as she put the animal back in its pen before she turned to face her.

“I know that look, Morrigan. You don’t approve of me interacting with your son, do you?” The elf asked, patting the hart on the nose as she removed the bit harness.

“I’m more surprised than anything. I distinctly recall, on that day, you cursing Alistair and I both for robbing you of your glory. Kieran is…” Morrigan started to explain.

“Kieran is the reason I am alive. I owe your son my life. He’s a good kid, curious and intelligent. He wants to learn.” Fen’lin replied, a faint smile on her lips. “Plus, if you and Alistair hadn’t conceived him that night, against my wishes, we wouldn’t be here now.”

“You are much different.” The witch pointed out.

“I was an impulsive youth. My mother had abandoned me, I lost my clan and Tamlen, and then there was you, frustratingly beyond my reach. Then, I felt death was my only relief. You and Kieran protected me from that.” The Elven Warden continued.

“I see. Kieran seems to have taken a liking to you. Do try not getting my son into too much trouble. He has enough bad influences around here already.”

Fen’lin laughed, those large eyes sparkling with mirth. Morrigan couldn’t help but smile in return. When they were out in the open, they were both careful about not displaying any affections towards each other. It was an odd agreement of theirs, considering many of their rendezvous locations weren’t very private. Morrigan noticed the elf’s gaze was lingering on her and she raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why don’t you and I go for a ride this evening? The winter snows have melted off the mountain and we can look at the stars.” Fen’lin offered.

“We can see the stars here.” Morrigan rolled her eyes.

“I know that. If you wish to humor me, I’ll be here when the night watch rotates, Asha’dirth.” The elf shrugged, leaving the stables.

“Stop calling me that!”

* * *

 

After tucking Kieran into bed that night, Morrigan decided she would see what Fen’lin had planned for the evening. It would be nice to wander outside of Skyhold’s walls again though she could do that at any time with the Eluvians at her command. The night air was still cold, but it wasn’t freezing. Nights like these, Skyhold was quiet. She entered the stables to find Fen’lin waiting, the reins to a hart in her hands.

“You’re late.” Fen’lin mused, swinging up onto the hart’s back.

“I had to make sure Kieran went to bed. So, what is that you have planned for this evening, hmm? You’re usually not so secretive Fen’lin.” The witch asked.

“That would ruin the surprise. Come, we have somewhere to be.” The elvish woman chuckled, holding her hand out to Morrigan.

Once she was hauled up onto the animal’s back, sitting behind Fen’lin, they left Skyhold. The mountain was still covered in snow, but there was only a soft chill in the night air. A half-moon lit their path almost nearly as clear as day. She had her arms around the Warden’s stomach, chin resting on one of her shoulders so she could see where they were going. Fen’lin was humming lightly, likely an old dalish lullaby. Morrigan could swear she recognized the melody but couldn’t quite place it.

They rode in silence for nearly an hour before Fen’lin pulled the hart to a stop. She helped Morrigan off, taking her hand in her own and guiding her down a game trail. The path they took led them down into a small ravine, the moonlight funneled in between the sheer rock faces. Morrigan noticed the air had a scent to it here, one she had never encountered before. The ravine was filled with flowers, some having fully blossomed. She stared at the elf’s back, still confused by this.

“Fen’lin… why did you bring me here?” She asked cautiously.

“I have no idea what these are called but during my travels, I discovered that this flower grows in places like this, high in mountainous regions. It only blooms in the light of the moon.” Fen’lin explained, drawing her over to a closed blossom.

Morrigan stood here, feeling the elf’s thumb running over her knuckles. Golden eyes watched as the blossom stirred, the white petals of the flower slowly opening. She had never seen or heard of a flower like this before, but it was beautiful. The scent it gave off was delicate and sweet. The witch looked up and saw Fen’lin’s gaze looked distant, face tipped up towards the moon.

“They are beautiful,” Morrigan said quietly, carefully masking her suspicion.

“I’m glad you like them. They make the stars exceptionally beautiful.” The elf commented, running her fingers across the back of her shoulders.

That familiar tease of warm breath against the shell of her ear made a shiver run down the witch’s back. Fen’lin’s wiry arms were around her, holding her close. They stood there in silence, enjoying the serene scene around them. Morrigan lifted a hand to stroke Fen’lin’s cheek, the elf nuzzling her lips against her neck. A small chuckle escaped her, turning her head to press a kiss to her lover’s forehead.

“Did you just bring me out here to show me flowers that bloom in the moon?” The witch asked her.

“Yes. We’ve been very… busy these past three weeks and I felt, perhaps, a calm night for once would be preferable.” Fen’lin replied softly, the circle of her arms tightening.

“Hmm, a night where we’re not tearing each other’s clothes off? It’s an interesting contrast but an enjoyable one. Are you sure nothing is bothering you?” Morrigan asked.

Fen’lin was silent for a while, slowly rocking them both side to side. Morrigan could hear her breathing become uneven, a tell-tale sign something was stressing her out and yet she was avoiding it. The witch wasn’t sure if she should be worried, but she placed her hands over Fen’lin’s and squeezed, hoping to reassure her. The elf’s breathing slowed back to a normal pace and the rocking slowed until they were standing still.

_Elgara vallas, da'len_  
_Melava somniar_  
_Mala taren aravas_  
_Ara ma'desen melar_

_Iras ma ghilas, da'len_  
_Ara ma'nedan ashir_  
_Dirthara lothlenan'as_  
_Bal emma mala dir_

_Tel'enfenim, da'len_  
_Irassal ma ghilas_  
_Ma garas mir renan_  
_Ara ma'athlan vhenas_  
_Ara ma'athlan vhenas_

Morrigan had only heard Fen’lin sing once before, ten years ago when they had been ambushed by those Shrieks and she killed Tamlen out of mercy. Then, her song was full of regret, grief, and anger. She mourned the loss of her last anchor to this world. That’s when Fen’lin, so young and brash, had spiraled into wanting death. The elf inhaled deeply and sighed, chin resting on Morrigan’s shoulder.

“My mother would sing me that when I couldn’t sleep. That is the only good memory I have of her, that song. I never saw the irony in it until I was old enough to hold my first bow. She abandoned me because she loved my father more than she did me.” Fen’lin spoke, sighing heavily. “She never intended to stay.”

“Fen’lin…”

“The day I had to leave the Sabrae Clan, my clan, I made Ashalle tell me about them. She spoke of how much in love they were, their happiness. I lost them both before I was even born. A ghost gave birth to me. Yet… I regret not keeping that necklace Ashalle gave me. I was angry, I hated them.”

“Fen’lin, your mother made her choice and it was not your fault.” Morrigan tried to assure her.

“But it was. I was so angry with her for abandoning me, I stripped away the name she gave me.”

“What?” The witch said in surprise, turning herself enough so she could look Fen’lin in the face.

The elf looked so remorseful yet she had no tears in her eyes. She looked up at Morrigan and gave her a smile, weak and with no joy behind it. Fen’lin was opening her past wounds to her, establishing that she trusted Morrigan with her heart. The witch stroked her cheek lovingly with the back of her hand, lip twitching in a desire to give her a sympathetic smile but she didn’t need that.

“What was the name she gave you?” Morrigan asked.

“Enasal. Enasal Mahariel. I hated what it meant because it felt like a betrayal, hypocrisy. Maybe it was.” Fen’lin sighed.

“Then why Fen’lin?”

“My first hunt, it was a full moon. I was tracking a stag with the largest crown of antlers I had ever seen. I was young, foolish… eager to prove myself. I went alone, which was a dangerous thing to do but I didn’t care. Some of the clan would whisper that I was trying to get myself killed.” Morrigan noted her tone was thoughtful, as if reliving that moment. “The thrill of the hunt was always my favorite.”

“Did you get the stag?” the witch asked.

“I did, arrow straight through its throat. It lay there, the beast twice as big as I was. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get it back to the clan but as I was moving through the brush to claim it, I heard a growl. A wolf as black as a starless night appeared from the shadows and stood over the stag, teeth bared. The beast was as large as a bear.” Fen’lin continued. “We stared at each other, drawing my short sword. I was not willing to give up the stag which, in hindsight, was a dumb idea. However, the wolf spoke and said only one thing; Fen’lin and then it was gone in the blink of an eye. For the longest time, I believed I imagined it.”

“Perhaps you did imagine it. Wolves do not grow to be as big as bears.” Morrigan scoffed.

“Perhaps I did but the wolf gave me my name. Fen’lin… and I’ve kept it ever since. The clan tried to deter me from it, but it was who I was and who I am.” She finished with a small laugh in her voice.

“Named by a wild animal… seems like you. So, you dragged me all the way out here for flowers and a story? Oddly romantic of you, my elf.” The witch teased.

“Mmm, well I felt like I needed to get that out in the open. I could always do more if you want.” Fen’lin purred into her ear, her hands slipping down to her belt.

“Only if you tell me what’s bothering you.” Morrigan countered, feeling the woman stiffen and then her hands retreat.

Fen’lin backed away from her and turned, attention focused on the flowers. She was tense and nervous, pacing back and forth and wringing her hands together. The elf suddenly laughed, running fingers through her own hair.

“You remember what happened to me in the Bercilian Forest?” She asked.

“Yes. You were bitten by Swiftrunner and became a werewolf for most of the day. What does that have to do with anything? The curse was broken.” Morrigan replied, brow cocked with curiosity.

“I thought so too but… I can still feel it, the beast inside. It weakens when the moon wanes and grows stronger when it waxes. On full moons, I often feel the need to hunt, to sate the blood lust. I notice I am stronger and more temperamental during this phase but once it passes, I’m fine.” Fen’lin explained to her.

“Fen’lin, how long as this been happening?”

“Since that day... though, as I think about it, I think I’ve always felt this way to some degree. My exposure to the curse made it more apparent.” The elf sighed.

“Wait… you arrived in Skyhold three days after the last full moon. Is…” She mumbled, realization dawning her.

“What, the sex? Creators, you don’t think I’m using you, do you Morrigan? I would never… not for that. Never.” Fen’lin replied in a panic.

“No, that’s not what I meant, relax. But… would explain the gradual shift between rough and gentle with you, not that I mind.” Morrigan smirked.

“I… I suppose it might be affecting our intimate encounters, but it never drives them. Most of the time, it’s just a thirst for tender meat and sticking a few arrows in something. I can keep it under control, there’s no need to worry.” The warden offered, going back to her and cupping a hand against her cheek.

“And rigorous sex.” Morrigan smirked.

“Who’s being the romantic now? Ow!” The elf laughed, wincing when Morrigan smacked her across the arm.

Morrigan took Fen’lin’s hand in her own and gave it a firm squeeze, green eyes meeting yellow and the witch saw those ambers flecks bleeding more into her irises. If the curse was still affecting her, influenced by the moon, it was only going to get worse as they got closer to the full moon. She bit her lip for a moment, wondering what to do. This would require extensive research but Fen’lin had done so much, she deserved help. The thought surprised her, but Morrigan was determined to make up for much of what she had done.

“We should go back to Skyhold. It’s late and we both need sleep. I believe the Inquisitor said you were going Venatori hunting with them at dawn?” Morrigan pointed out to her.

“Yes, I suppose I should get some sleep. Thank you for listening, Morrigan. I’m… glad. Are you going to miss me while I’m gone?” Fen’lin asked with a mischievous smile coming to her lips.

“Hardly, elf.” The witch scoffed.

“I’ll take that as an ‘I’ll be wet and ready for you upon your return’ kind of answer. Hopefully, the hart hasn’t run off, come on.” The dalish woman laughed as she guided her back to the game trail.

They found the steed waiting for them in the spot they left it and returned to Skyhold. It was quiet as Fen’lin escorted her back to her room and when they arrived, Morrigan immediately kept her from crossing the threshold. Fen’lin noticed, understanding Morrigan enjoyed her privacy a great deal. She leaned forward and gave her a gentle, languid goodnight kiss.

“I will see you when I return.”


	4. Chapter 4

The mood surrounding the Inquisitor’s return was stressed, Morrigan could feel it in the very air of Skyhold. Worried something had happened, she was waiting in the courtyard for them. Kerrian stood with her and holding tightly to her hand. The Inquisitor rode in on her steed, followed by the rest of the companions that had followed. She could hear chains rattling and her heart dropped when she saw, chained between Iron Bull and Dorian’s horses, was Fen’lin.

“What is the meaning of this?!” She screamed at the Inquisitor as she stormed towards them.

“Morrigan stay back! Something’s… something’s wrong with her.” The Inquisitor warned, blocking her path.

“Gah! Boss we gotta get her away before more people see her like this.” Iron Bull shouted, yanking on the chain.

Morrigan’s yellow eyes widened as she saw that Fen’lin was, indeed, not herself. She snarled like a wild animal, her tunic torn and leather jerkin stretched. Her nails had grown into sharpened claws and she had this wild look to her that was hauntingly like what had happened all those years ago in the Bercillian forest. She held to Keiran’s hand tightly as Iron Bull got down and helped drag the feral woman towards the dungeons to contain her.

“What happened?!” Morrigan demanded of the Inquisitor, following them as she headed for the keep.

“I’m not sure Morrigan. We were fighting Venatori and a spell struck her. I thought she was wounded but she shrugged it off and just… went berserk. Tore the man’s throat out with her teeth. Tried to attack Bull and took all of us to contain her enough to get her back to Skyhold. I need your help, Morrigan.”

When they reached the cells, Iron Bull had managed to lock her in the furthest cell, chained to the wall. Morrigan hated seeing her like this but she was just as baffled as the rest of them. Cullen and Leliana had come down to the cells once word had reached them. Her muscles bulged as she strained against the chains, snarling and frothing at the mouth. Morrigan looked utterly dismayed and Kerrian was clinging to her worriedly.

"Maker, I haven't seen this since..." Leliana muttered, unable to finish the sentence.

"It doesn't make sense. Zathrian's curse was lifted. This is different." Morrigan finished for her, her golden eyes filled with distress and frustration.

"You said she had become a werewolf before? I thought those things didn't exist." Cullen asked.

"They don't, technically. When we had to appeal to the Dalish to honor their promised aid to the Grey Wardens, we came across a clan that was being harrassed by then. A single bite or scratch could turn you into one, if the effort didn't kill you. Fen'lin had been bitten and she transformed right before our eyes. The process looked and sounded agonizing." Leliana explained.

"Yes, but the werewolves existed because their Keeper, Zathrian, had bound a spirit of the forest to the flesh and blood form of a wolf. He wished to enact revenge upon the humans who had raped his daughter and the power of the curse gave him some form of immortality as the elves of old had. It didn't matter to him if the werewolves killed his entire clan, so strong was his vendetta." Morrigan continued.

"Maker, that's terrible! How did you break the curse?" Cullen asked.

"Zathrian tried to trick us into killing the spirit but instead, we made him see the error of his ways and he released the spell. Fortunately, the old fool died with it as well." The witch huffed. "But this does not explain why Fen'lin has reverted. The curse has left it's mark on her but never beyond a shifting appetite for raw meat."

"Or a great deal of sex." Leliana quipped, unable to help herself.

"Leliana, not in front of my son." Morrigan shot back, covering Kerrian's ears. "Forget you heard that."

"I'm not a child mother. I know she gives you those marks on your neck." Kerrian protested as he batted her hands away.

Before Morrigan could chastize him, Fen'lin started to growl louder except it wasn't just feral noises she was making. Words in a melodic, unfamiliar tongue started rolling off her lips, gaze unfocused and her thrashing minimal. The Inquisitor's eyes suddenly glazed over until she stopped speaking and Fen'lin slumped over, seemingly exhausted. Leliana had noticed the change in their esteemed leader, suspecting the Well had taken control in those  brief moments.

"Inquisitor, did the knowledge of the Well reveal something to you?"

"I think so but I'm not sure. I did understand what she was saying though." The inqusitor replied, looking puzzled.

"She's in pain. Something's wrong and she's stuck like that until Fenris fixes it." Kerrian piped up, having understood the woman's words as well.

"Wait, you understood her too?" Morrigan asked in surprise as she looked down at her sun.

"Yes. I can feel it too. She's hurting, like someone's torn her half apart. I... I think she's supposed to look different but doesn't know how to finish so she's stuck. It hurts a lot." He explained vaguely, as if uncertain himself.

"He's about right but it's the Fenris part that worries me. We haven't seen Solas, since... well, he took my arm to keep the mark from killing me. The Well also showed me pieces of what looked like a rebellion, elves fleeing from other elves and werewolves fighting. I have no idea what it was supposed to mean." The Inquisitor explained.

"Something we'll have to investigate. I'll go over the information we gathered from the Temple in the Arbor Wilds and see if we come across anything." Leliana offered.

Morrigan said nothing further, just took Kerrian's hand and led him back to their room. She paced around looking at the large collection of tomes before her but those would be of no help, she knew that. A thought came to mind, someone she could possibly gain answers from but she wasn't certain if they would even answer her. However, she had to do something to help Fen'lin regain herself.


	5. Fen'Harel's Forgotten

_Tis strange you came seeking my counsel, though this is a dire matter indeed that I glean from your tale._

Morrigan stood before that massive tree in the depths of the forgotten elven ruins in the Bercellian Forest. The Inquisitor was with her as they spoke to the Lady of the Forest; the very essence of the forest itself. The Inquisitor seemed quite intrigued by the exchange going on between the witch and the spirit and was content with being on the side-lines for now.

“The curse did not merely afflict Enasal, did it? It awoke something in her.” Morrigan concluded, carefully watching the spirit’s reaction.

_It did, for Enasal’s father was part of a bloodline thought to have been extinct. A beast lurked within him and it has lurked within her until she came to me._

“That isn’t exactly helpful. Could you be more specific?” The Inquisitor cut in impatiently. “Fen… Enasal is in really bad shape.”

_I can feel her distress ever over this great distance. She is a child of Fen’harel, protectors of the people he freed from the tyranny of his brothers. They fought along-side the Dread Wolf after Mythal was betrayed and murdered and it was believed they were all destroyed._

“Child of Fen’harel? Wait… then, the name she believes she was given is a mistranslation. It wasn’t ‘wolf’s blood’, it’s ‘wolf’s child’!” Morrigan exclaimed as it dawned on her.

_You are correct. Enasal may very well be the last of her kind. Such a lonely existence._

“Wait, but Solas… Fen’harel didn’t take on followers or anything. He was abhorred by the idea from what I understand.” The Inquisitor piped up again, confusion clearly written across her face.

_They were not worshippers but individuals devoted to his cause. It took much convincing but Fen’harel was remiss to impart a blessing upon them, granting them the forms and strength of great wolves that would protect the elves he freed._

Morrigan thought over the information but none of the history was helping them solve what to do to help Fen’lin… no Enasal, regain herself. Morrigan was determined to refer to the woman by her true name. It matched her untamed beauty and though the woman herself might reject it, Morrigan felt she needed to help her regain this remaining thread to her family and old life.

“How do we help her, Lady of the Forest? She is stuck between transformations.” The Inquisitor pressed after noticing Morrigan was too lost in thought.

_Sadly, there is nothing I can do to ease her suffering. Only Fen’harel could help her and even I do not know how to find the Dread Wolf._

The Lady of the Forest looked thoughtfully at Morrigan, the witch returning her gaze coolly. The spirit simply gave her a knowing smile.

_I am sorry I could not provide anything useful but you will help her regain herself. I’d like for the two of you to visit again, sometime. Your passion is something to witness._

Disappointed with their endeavor, Morrigan took them back to the Eluvian and the pair returned to Skyhold with more questions and no answers to their dilemma. However, Leliana was waiting for them. The grim expression on Leliana’s face made them both worry but when it shifted to remorse as her gaze settled on Morrigan, that was when the witch sensed something was terribly amiss.

“Where is Kieran?” The witch asked, her voice going hoarse.

“The Venatori infiltrated the Keep and stole several things from your library. I… they also kidnapped Kieran. Though we killed a few of the band as they were fleeing, they are currently on the run with him.” Leliana reported sternly though her emotions were cracking through.

“No!” Morrigan cried in dismay, immediately running for the stables.

The Inquisitor and Leliana were only a step behind her, the courtyard a flurry of activity as the rest of the Inquisition buzzed like a kicked hornet’s nest. Cassandra was already on her war horse, accompanied by Cullen.

“Scout Harding is already tracking them with a small team…” She started to report as the three of them joined in when panicked screams stopped them.

People scurried out of the way and their mounts reared and panicked, Morrigan being thrown right out of her saddle before she could situate herself. Instead of hitting the ground, she landed in a pair of strong, nimble arms. She looked up to see Fen’lin’s fierce, feral face, golden amber completely hiding her normal green irises, lips curled over sharp fangs in a vicious snarl. She, carefully, set the witch on her feet but seemed reluctant to let her go completely.

“Fen’lin…” Leliana muttered, everyone amazed the woman had escaped her bonds, evident by the manacles still on her wrists and the short length of chains she was dragging behind her.

“Kieran?” She growled in question, her accent thicker than normal.

She let go of Morrigan and sniffed at the air, rolling her shoulders as they cracked, nails lengthening into claws as she caught the scent of the child and his captors. In a surprising burst of speed, she leapt forward in pursuit, startling the Inquisitor’s party as they struggled to move their horses forward and keep up. Morrigan egged her horse faster and started to break away from the party, Fen’lin still a good length or two ahead of her and maintaining her speed. The scent must have broken off from the main road leading to Skyhold for Fen’lin suddenly veered off to the right to follow an old, game trail, marked with the fresh hoofprints of horses. The woman put on a sudden burst of unnatural speed and Morrigan lost sight of her.

“Fuck!” She swore under her breath as she egged her tired mount to move faster.

The sounds of battle and the heavy stench of blood reached her before they actually came into sight of the Venatori. A horse and rider lay collapsed in the dead grass in a massive pool of blood. Morrigan’s gaze immediately sought out her son and her heart sank in terror as she saw the boy being guarded by Fen’lin… at least she guessed the beast was Fen’lin.

The crossbow bolt slammed into her shoulder, Fen’lin snapping her bloodied jaws over her shoulder though refusing to budge from her spot over Kieran as she shielded the boy. Kieran was holding to her leg, perking up when the Inquisitor’s party routed the rest of the Venatori. None escaped, even as one tried to flee on horseback, Sera’s arrow felled him from an impressive distance. The battlefield was a horrid mess. Fen’lin had, literally, torn apart both man and horse to get Kieran back and now they were concerned about getting the child from her. Before, she had attacked them savagely but she was not the feral woman from the other day. No, she had achieved a deadly and graceful form of a werewolf. Her head had sculpted into that of a great wolf, nearly twice her normal body scale. Her fur matched the auburn shade of her hair, a longer mane running down from the back of her head to the small of her back. Bolts stuck out of her from the Venatori trying to fell her and there were burns on her back from where spells had struck her.

“Fen’lin, it’s us. It’s ok, they’re all dead now.” The Inquisitor tried to assure her after sliding off her horse’s saddle.

Fen’lin growled in warning and snapped her teeth, obviously ignoring her own wounds as she remained protectively over Kieran. The boy saw his mother and noticed she looked panicked.

“It’s ok! She won’t hurt me. She saved me but she’s hurt really bad.” He called out.

“Alright, let’s just all put our weapons away. Maybe that will get her to calm down.” Cullen recommended, sheathing his sword.

Everyone followed suit and sure enough, Fen’lin’s growling quieted down. She refused to move away from Kieran, allowing her attention to stray as she dipped her head down and nudged her bloodied muzzle against the boy’s cheek. At first, they thought she was making grunts and whines but Morrigan strained her hearing enough to hear her speaking Elvish to her son. The boy stroked her cheek and muttered something back worriedly. Cullen dared to take a step forward and Fen’lin’s wolfish-head swiveled around with a snap and she barred her teeth in a loud snarl.

“Enasal!” Morrigan called, getting the wolf woman’s attention.

Her growls stopped and her ears perked up slightly as those feral golden eyes focused on the witch. She looked at Morrigan and the witch, cautiously approached her. She did not growl or bare her teeth, even standing up straighter so she towered over the witch though she showed no fear. Kieran, though free of her protective hovering, did not move from his spot next to her, worriedly looking at her wounds.

“Ma, I’m sorry. I got scared when they came into our home…” He started to blubber.

Fen’lin whined when she heard his crying and crouched down to nuzzle her cheek against his. Kieran clung to her and the wolven woman picked him with one arm and lumbered straight past them. Tentatively, they remounted and followed her back, Morrigan, again, leading the party. Kieran was clutching to Fen’lin’s thick fur as she carried the boy with one arm cradled around him. Her injuries didn’t seem to bother her.

When they entered Skyhold, no one said anything nor dared go near her as she made her way to the gardens where Morrigan’s home was located. Morrigan slipped off her horse and assured the others she had things handled before cautiously following. When she entered her own home, she watched the transformed elf set her son on the ground and her form start to shrink. The fur melted away and reveal her tanned skin before she collapsed in utter exhaustion on the floor.

“Enasal!” Morrigan cried, running to her side. “Kieran, get my herbs. We have to get her wounds dressed now.”

\--- --- ---

Fen’lin woke to soft sheets that smell of an unfamiliar mix of herbs. Groaning, she sat up and looked around, her bleary vision clearing enough for her to recognize she was in Morrigan’s room. She had no recollection how she ended up here but she found herself with a necklace of woven wildflowers around her neck.

“W-what?” She mumbled to herself, trying to make sense of her situation.

“You’re awake!” Kieran said excitedly, jumping up from where he was sitting.

“K-Kieran?!” Fen’lin said in alarm. “What happened?”

“Venatori attacked Skyhold and tried to steal stuff from mom, including me! But you came and rescued me but the bad guys hurt you pretty badly. Mom and I patched you up.”

Before she could ask anything further, she sensed Morrigan’s approach and so did he. He turned to smile excitedly at his mother and Morrigan smiled down at her; a look of relief that was so unlike her, Fen’lin felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Morrigan.” She breathed, the name like sweet water on her tongue.

“Kieran, why don’t you go play for a bit. I need to tend to Enasal’s wounds.” Morrigan told him, patting him on the head.

Kieran gave her a quick kiss to the cheek, then he darted over and kissed the elf on the cheek as well, catching her completely off-guard before he scurried off. Morrigan waited until she heard the door shut before throwing herself over the elf and kissing her passionately. Though her attentions were surprising, they were not unwelcome and Enasal hugged her to her, kissing her vigorously back.

“I should change your dressings.” She muttered against her mouth as she forced herself away.

A tense silence fell between them as Morrigan removed the dressings on her injuries, surprised to find the wounds had stitched themselves back together. She muttered her amazement to herself as she removed all the bandages and found no trace of the injuries at all. Her touch lingered on her back, noticing her muscles seem much more defined than before, admiring how they rippled and her tattooed skin flexed against her soft strokes. The elf’s breath stuttered for a moment.

“I thought your wounds would not heal for another week or so.” Morrigan muttered, tracing one of the pale red lines running parallel to her spine.

“How long was I out?” Enasal asked.

“A week. It seems your transformation sorted itself out but I still intend to unravel this mystery of yours.” The witch whispered against her ear, her hot breath sending a shiver down her back. “But for now…”

“M-morrigan? What are you… doing?” The elven woman stammered, gasping as she felt the witch’s breath tickling her neck.

Morrigan moved away from her and those emerald eyes watched her with stunned silence as she stripped herself naked. Enasal moved away from her in surprise as Morrigan climbed into the bed with her, slipping under the sheet so they were touching skin to skin. Her warmth was maddening and setting her baser instincts aflame. The beast within Enasal started to sing and she clenched her fists in the bed sheet as Morrigan’s mouth worked on her neck.

They said little to each other, Enasal expecting Morrigan to make her usual demands of her and started to lay down in expectation to be between the witch’s legs. She laughed and, instead, moved down the elf’s body, spreading her legs before diving down for the prize underneath her. Those lithe, powerful hips nearly shot straight up off the bed and Enasal let out a deep groan.

“Mythal’s blood… what if Kieran…” She starts to protest but the words die on her lips as the witch’s tongue sweeps over her core again.

“Then I suggest you keep your voice down.” Morrigan answered wickedly.

Enasal clenched her teeth as she stifled her groans, breath raggedly heaving in her chest as Morrigan worked on her. It wasn’t often that their positions were reversed but the elf had more than earned a reprieve from her demands. The woman writhed underneath her, nimble fingers digging into her hair as the elf was torn between pushing her away or pressing her deeper. Morrigan smirked as she finally relented and crawled back up her lover's lithe frame.

“Morrigan?” she croaked in a hoarse whisper, staring up at the woman above her.

“Shush Enasal… And let me do this for you.” Morrigan chastised, effectively stopping any further protests as her fingers stroked where her tongue had been moments before.

Enasal came undone easily, hips rolling hard as she showered the witch's pale throat with kisses and bites until the pleasure of her orgasm subsided. The elf looked at Morrigan with raw devotion and lust in her eyes. Morrigan allowed herself a pleasured sigh as she felt her hair come loose and tumble over her shoulders.

“You seem to be in good health.” Morrigan mused smugly as she removed her hand and laid down next to Enasal.

“Is that how examine all your patients?” The elf teased as she nuzzled her neck.

“Well, if your performance was hampered in any manner, I'd have to go through the exhaustive process of finding someone who could sate me.”

Enasal growled at the thought and pressed Morrigan on her back and would have claimed her if she hadn't caught the patter of his footfalls.

“Kieran. You should announce yourself. You're much too young to be peeping.” She called out, Morrigan gasping in horror as she tried to cover herself.

“I-I'm sorry! I just didn't want to interrupt.” The boy called back before stepping around the pillar.

“Kieran!” Morrigan snapped in mortified embarrassment but Enasal cut her off.

“It's not like we're a secret from your own son, ma vehnan.” Enasal laughed. “Give us a moment.”

The boy patiently waited out of sight while Morrigan scrambled out of the bed and dressed. Chuckling, the elf settled back in the bed and fixed the sheet so it adequately covered her. Kieran peeked around the corner and couldn't help the bubbling laugh upon seeing his mother's face bright red. Enasal’s smirk wasn’t helping and soon Morrigan’s patience snapped.

“What did you want?” She snapped, effectively shutting up the boy’s laughter.

“The Inquisitor and the others wanted to come check on Fen… Enasal but I told them you were busy tending to her injuries and I’d check for them.” He replied, fidgeting in place.

“Hmm, he saved us the embarrassment of the Inquisitor and her entire inner circle witnessing your particular ‘healing’ techniques.” The elf teased, Morrigan shooting her a waspish look.

“You shut up. Go back outside, Kieran… and tell them everything’s fine. Enasal will be… presentable for evening supper.”

“Ok and I’m sorry mother. I didn’t mean to make fun of you.” He turned and hurried back outside

Morrigan waited until she heard the door shut, then immediately rounded upon the elf in her bed. Enasal gave her a very smug grin moments before the witch snatched the pillow from under her and proceeded to hit her with it. The elf laughed and managed to catch Morrigan’s arms and yank her down on top of her, holding her firm as those yellow eyes glared at her.

“So spirited, ma vehnana. Your fury is always so invigorating.” Enasal laughed.

“I should kill you!” Morrigan growled.

“But you won’t because you will enjoy my apology thoroughly.” The elf smirked, already sliding under her and working her skirt and leggings loose.


End file.
